


Mushroom Stew

by deltachye



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:53:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8577487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltachye/pseuds/deltachye
Summary: [reader x tsutomu goshiki]To make a wholesome mushroom stew, what did he need? Love and you.





	1. BUTTON [1/10]

* * *

 

“Goshiki, nice serve!”

Three-on-three games were what he liked best during training rotations. Drills were brutal and regular six-on-sixes were just every day occurrences. Sure, he liked the other 5 guys that he got to play with during regular matches enough, but three-on-threes were when it came down to individual skill. There’d be a receive, a set, and a spike. That was it. That was the game. Like fishing with a stick, string, and a bent paperclip. Constraints like that killed off the weak and bred the strong.

He’d be the strongest.

Goshiki took a deep breath and tossed the ball up into the air. _Good spin. It’ll curve left to the guy who can’t receive properly._ He took his first step, feeling the power pulse in his toes. Next should be a high jump. He felt the air rustle his hair. _The momentum is going to carry through. Good._ His hand connected with the ball with a sharp sting across his palm and it spurred away from him angrily, desperate to be free. As he predicted, the wing spiker had a lousy receive and the ball continued backwards, rolling onto somebody else’s court. He clenched his fist with pride before whirling around excitedly.

You were talking to Ushijima with your back to him.

_God dammit!_

“Maybe next time she’ll see you,” his opponent snickered as he rolled the ball back under the net. Goshiki ground his teeth together with disappointment. How was it that every time he did something cool, you were never looking, but every time he messed up a receive or attack you were always staring right at him? It wasn’t fair!

“There there, Tsu-chan~. Maybe your senpai likes Ushijima-san instead. After all, he’s the _real_ ace. Best to give up now, hm?” His friend from middle school sauntered up to him, throwing a lanky arm around Goshiki’s shoulders. Practically everybody in the whole of Japan knew about Goshiki’s little (or, as was more accurate, his head-over-heels) crush on the team’s junior trainer, and everybody knew about Goshiki’s frustration. Everybody except for the junior trainer, [Name] [Surname] .

“Shut up!” he snapped at Yuta Kuromine, face reddening. “You’re not even a regular!”

Kuromine shrugged, locking his hands behind the back of his head as Goshiki marched to the back line to do another serve. A scowl bloomed on his face as he bounced it to the floor. Kuromine had a point. You were a second year, older than him… of course you would choose the senior, more experienced guy instead of him. Ushijima had made it onto the U-19 team. What had he done in _his_ life?

No! Goshiki forcibly shook his head, his dark hair swinging with him. There was no reason to get discouraged! What he lacked for in experience, he would make up for with sheer determination and _willpower_!

This was it. This was just what he needed to give him that final push. He _would_ confess his feelings to you. He’d do it by the end of the month. And if you said no… well, he’d probably cry, so he decided not to think about that end game. But what if you said yes?! Just the idea of it fired him up and he let out a purposeful yell, to which Kuromine told him to shut up.

His serve was received by Shirabu this time, but because of its speed it flew back over for a chance ball. Goshiki was already running for the net. He’d show them all. He’d show everybody that the future ace could do it just as well!

“Tsu-chan!” Kuromine shouted, tossing the ball up high. It was an easy spike. His eyes followed the ball as his arms drew back, ready to propel him upwards. The other team had time to set up a three-man block. They were tall, too, but that didn’t matter—if he could just hit a sharp cross it’d be—!

_Crash!_

He’d jumped into the net.

Despite the expansive gymnasium, three-on-threes with the large club required sharing of the nets. Goshiki brought down half of them in his fall, each wrenched to the floor in a domino effect. Goshiki landed hard on the wooden flooring with a chorus of screaming as people ducked out of the way all across the gym.

“Oi,” the voice of Shirabu muttered as he squatted down low. Goshiki squinted up at the blurry figure, discerning the customary scowl on his senpai’s features. “Nice going, dumbass.”

“Listen,” Goshiki slurred defensively, holding up a weak finger of protest. “I…”

“Goshiki-kun!?”

The feminine voice seized his heart and he bolted up straight, seeing you running towards him. Was this a dream? Had he hit his head too hard? You leant forwards on your knees and held your hand out for him, concern etched all over your cute, button-like face.

“Are you okay? Can you get up?” you asked, breathing a little hard.

“Uh,” was all he could say, staring blankly up at you as if you weren’t real. Immediately your face stiffened and you snapped at Shirabu, who was laughing behind a taped hand.

“Get him to his feet and help him onto a bench. I’m going to do a SCAT and pupil gauge to check for concussion. Everybody else; are you guys okay? The head trainer’s out for a bit so if you’re injured, come to me!”

Your voice held so much charge and confidence. Dreamily, Goshiki merely watched as you pulled your hair back into a messy ponytail, a forgotten strand still hanging out of it as you crouched down to him. He wished he could’ve touched it. You put your cool hand on his cheek, taking a penlight and flashing it in his eyes. His eyelashes fluttered drowsily.

Wait, you put your hand on his cheek?!

“I’m just checking to see how your pupils react. It’ll be okay,” you said sweetly, the rough authority in your voice dissolving into a gentler tone. The blinding light in his face combined with the feeling of your fingers against his chin… your face started to spin as his breathing came in shorter. “Pupils look good. But you’re not hurt, are you? Goshiki-kun? Can you look at me?”

He made eye contact with you and you smiled again. He blinked. Then, it was like a nervous fuse blew in his brain and he fainted, the idiotic grin still on his face.


	2. CHANTERELLES [2/10]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes the title names are mushroom types   
> s3 boutta end and im :-)

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty!”

Goshiki groaned and turned around as Kuromine put up a lazy hand. Goshiki didn’t bother to wave back and scowled instead.

“I thought I told you _not_ to call me that.”

“I’m not the one who fainted when his crush got close.”

“I didn’t—well, it was only for a couple of seconds! And I hit my head, so _really_ —”

“Remember when she was leaning down to check your breathing?” Kuromine pulled a kissy face, parting his dark black hair so that he mimicked you. He burst out with a horrifying falsetto. “Ah~, Goshiki-kun, my darling love! Whatever shall I do? Oh, I know! A kiss shall bring you back to life!”

Goshiki’s heart pounded at the memory. Although you had never actually said anything idiotic like that, he had come to with your hair tickling his face as you put your cheek to his nose, checking for signs of life. He’d screamed in your face, confirming that he wasn’t dead, but after that incident he sure wished he were. He punched Kuromine in the arm as hard as he could, making the fellow first year whine.

“I’m just tellin’ it like it is, Tsu-chan. No need to be so pissy.”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Ne, ne, Tsu-chan~!” Kuromine continued to mock, his brown eyes shimmery. “I really like you!”

“Shut up!” Goshiki barked, “I’m telling you, I’m going to confess by the end of this month!”

Kuromine smirked and waved him off. “Yeah, I remember. You bet me first dibs on showers for two weeks. How could I forget?”

“Take me seriously,” Goshiki warned. “I’m going to tell [Name]-senpai—”

“You’re going to tell me what, exactly?”

Goshiki almost had a heart attack. He turned around creakily and saw you standing there, an amused smile on your face. Your soft hair had been put up and your sleeves were rolled back casually. A clipboard was hugged to your chest and you nodded at Kuromine, whose eyes were wide with an equal amount of surprise.

“I forgot to get you to sign this waiver form about your concussion yesterday,” you explained, holding out the clipboard with a document attached. “The head trainer needs you to admit that you did it to yourself… for legal reasons. Sorry.”

“Right,” Goshiki said stupidly. “Okay.”

“So… um, can you sign it, please?”

“Oh! Right!” He grabbed the outstretched clipboard and felt his face grow hot as Kuromine snickered behind him, disguising it as a cough. Around him, the first year classmates started to mutter.

“What’s a second year doing in the first-year’s wing?”

“Isn’t she talking to Goshiki?”

“She’s kind of cute, isn’t she?”

Goshiki felt a pulse of annoyance and signed his name a bit harder than he needed to, the pen nearly shredding a hole through the paper. He handed back the clipboard with shaky hands.

“There,” he managed, “is that all you need—gyeh?!”

You took the board with him before clasping his hand in yours. The feeling of your soft, small fingers around his hand was almost enough for him to black out again. You looked up at him and let go abruptly, your eyes flashing with mild surprise and embarrassment.

“Sorry! I should’ve asked first—I just, you’re shaking so much, so I’m worried that you hit your head harder than I thought.” 

“What? Oh, th-th-that’s okay! I’m fine! Just, uh, cold! It’s cold!”

“You’re cold?” you asked suspiciously, eyebrows knitting together. “Indoors? With a jacket on?”

“Um…”

“You might really be injured, Goshiki-kun... I’m sorry, but I think I have to pull you from play for a couple of days.”

Finally, Goshiki’s sense returned to him with a painful slap and he shook his head rapidly. “You can’t do that to me!” he protested, “I’m a regular, I _have_ to practice!”

“I know,” you argued in a strained voice, “but if you’re hurt, I can’t risk your health like that.”

“Please—”

“Just for a day,” you reasoned, cutting off his begging before he could even begin. “You can still come, but sit on the sidelines with me for a day. Okay?” You looked down, taking a deep breath before looking back up with large puppy-dog eyes. “I don’t want you to get any more hurt…”

_Damn._

“Fine,” he conceded, but his voice grew quiet. He grit his teeth and clenched his fists. One mistake and he was already being suspended? Volleyball practice was the highlight of his day. Without it, what the hell did he have to go on for?

You stepped forwards and patted him on the shoulder. He jumped a bit, eyelashes fluttering as you gave him a sad look.

“Sorry,” you apologized in a small voice. “I know how important it is for you to play. But I care about you, so I need to you to listen to me. Okay?”

“You care about me?” he repeated dully.

“I… oh, um, sorry. That was a little… anyways, nevermind. I’ll see you at practice, Goshiki-kun. Kuromine-kun.” You turned away, not before he could glimpse your reddening face. You jogged back towards the stairwell and he watched you until you were gone, and even then, he stared at where you were.

“Dammit,” Kuromine muttered at his side. “I’m going to lose this bet, aren’t I?”


	3. CREMINI [3/10]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who else cried when he cried s3e10

It was incredibly depressing not to go to the boys change room but to instead march straight into the gymnasium. It was like a walk of shame as he peeled off from the rest of the boys to head into the gym first. He wasn’t exactly first, per say, seeing the coach and trainers mingling in the corner. He also saw Ushijima practicing a jump serve. He flinched when the ball connected with the floor with the eardrum shattering noise. Ushijima noticed him in the doorway as he straightened, gave him a once-over, before turning away disinterestedly. Goshiki almost burst into tears.

 _Am I so unimportant...?!_

“Goshiki-kun!” you called, waving at him. He swallowed thickly before remembering his resolve. Resolve, resolve… god, where was it? He felt as if he’d left his resolve at home! He bowed his head and walked towards you, focusing on calming himself down before he got there.

“This is the kid who fell into the net?” the third-year head trainer asked, smiling a little bit to herself when he shuffled forwards sheepishly. He felt himself pouting childishly at the undignified summary. 

“Yeah… don’t be mean, Jin-chan. Accidents happen.”

He didn’t know much about the head trainer, his attention having fallen solely to you. Choi Jin-Hye was a third-year who often took care of the third years or regulars. She’d taped his hands and fingers sometimes, but since her attention shifted mostly to Ushijima or the other third-year regulars, he often spent more time with you instead. 

“Goshoku… No, wait.” Choi squinted at him and scratched her head. “Go… Gosho… Goshuu…? You’re number eight, right? Or was it seven…”

_Am I that unimportant?!_

“Goshiki Tsutomu,” you corrected her for him hastily. Hearing his name in your mouth made his heart flutter and he nodded.

“I feel fine,” he started, but Choi waved him off. She flipped through a clipboard you handed to him, humming to herself absent-mindedly. As she read, you leant towards him and gave him a conspiratorial whisper.

“She’s really nice. She’s just scatterbrained sometimes. Don’t worry too much about it. Sorry for making you sit out… I know you really want to play. But, you know.”

Memories of what you’d said earlier came back to mind like a floodgate having been blown open. 

_I care about you. I care about you. I care about you._

“It’s nothing!” he blurted out, betraying the hushed conversation you had been trying to have. “That’s fine!”

Ignoring him, Choi slapped the clipboard against her open palm with a little shrug. “Well, SCAT doesn’t look too bad. If [Name]-chan really wants you out, then we’ll see how you feel in the second quarter.”

“Wait, really? I could still practice today?” he asked excitedly. Choi smiled at him genuinely.

“Why not?” 

“Thank you so much, Choi-senpai!” He bowed deeply and she chuckled.

“I’ll let [Name]-chan decide whether or not you’re fit to return. She’s not usually this careful with the boys, aren’t you, [Name]-chan? Something special about Goshuuko—”

“Stop!” you objected quickly, shooting him a panicked look for some reason. “I-I’m just making sure that he doesn’t get any worse! Safety first! Right?!”

“Okay,” she snickered. She looked past Goshiki and he turned, seeing Ushijima rotate his wrist gingerly with a detached scowl on his face. “I’m going to go see how Ushijima’s doing. It looks like the other third years have been pushing themselves too far, too…”

“Is he okay?” Goshiki asked, surprised to see Ushijima looking discomforted. As far as he knew, Ushijima had never even gotten a _cold_ in his life. Choi looked at him as if deciding whether or not he was important enough to tell. In the end, she sighed and shrugged, dyed brown hair grazing her shoulders.

“He hyperextended on a block, I think, but knowing him he won’t tell anybody about it. That’s the worst thing an athlete can do to their trainer. Lie.” She looked at him a little more closely, her redwood eyes shifting from him back to you. Choi’s gaze snapped back to him and he stood straighter, feeling as if he were receiving a mental scolding. She continued coldly. “So don’t lie. If you feel dizzy or sick, or even if you have a little pressure in your skull, don’t lie to [Name]-chan. Think about what that’d do to you. To _her._ ” Suddenly she was all smiles and beamed, making her look even more frightening than before. “Okay?”

“Y-yes, Choi-senpai.”

“Good.” The head trainer walked off onto court and began to talk with Ushijima. Goshiki looked back at you sheepishly, who patted an empty spot on the bench. He sat creakily, only aware of how close he was to you when he could feel the fabric of your jacket rustle against his arm. Or was he imagining it?

“I’m sorry about her,” you said suddenly, distracting him from his internal screaming. “She kind of likes to butt into people’s business...”

“Does she?” Goshiki asked.

“Wait… you didn’t notice?” You looked up at him. His eyes turned up to the ceiling as he tried to remember anything Choi might’ve said that was overly mindful. Even her little warning about being honest was pretty straightforward.

“Uh… no?” 

“Oh! Okay then,” you chirped stiffly, surprising him. “Nevermind then, forget what I said!”

“Um… okay,” Goshiki agreed. He watched as Choi taped Ushijima’s hand. The tall, strong boy yawned widely and Goshiki turned his attention back to you. “Hey… is it really okay if I play later?”

“Well… I don’t know. You were kind of acting weird this morning.” You busied yourself in writing something and Goshiki shifted uncomfortably.

“If you say so. I guess… I’m not that important anyways.” His eyes turned back to Shiratorizawa’s ace. Everybody knew Ushijima was important. Their entire play strategy was built on him. Goshiki… was just another option. 

“That’s not true,” you said firmly, looking up at him again. The fire in your eyes startled him as you continued. “I think everybody’s important. But you said you wanted to be the future ace, right?”

“You mean you remembered that?” he asked, eyebrows shooting up. 

“Of course. Because I think it’ll happen. You’re important. If not to anybody else, you’re important to me.” You smiled faintly, looking back down at your books. 

After that, he didn’t even want to play, just so that he could keep sitting next to you.


	4. SHIITAKE [4/10]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shiitake like o shiitake lmao im really funny please like me

A week had passed and…!

Nothing changed.

His relationship with you fizzled back into that of trainer-athlete and he went right back to hoping you were looking at the right time—which you never were, as always. Goshiki felt as if he’d missed his opportunity. The frustrating lack of progress seemed like the world telling him that he’d lost his one and only chance. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about you, either. Well, in a less creepy sort of way, he hoped. Your words just kept floating to the top of his mind. _You’re important. If not to anybody else, you’re important to me._

He couldn’t give up. If he’d missed his chance, fine, shame on him. But he’d just try again. He’d reassert his momentum until finally, he could confess to you!

“Goshiki.”

The low, almost unfamiliar rumble jolted him out of his thoughts. He looked around and glanced up to Ushijima, who was looking down on him with the same muted disinterest he always had. Ushijima raised an eyebrow and Goshiki realized that the ace was talking to _him_.

“Y-yes, Ushijima-san?!” he asked with a stick straight spine, worried that he’d done something to offend his senior.

“We're on the same team for three-on-three.” 

The fire in him was extinguished and Goshiki might’ve laid down on the ground and cried. How was he supposed to impress you if the frontrunner of the entire team was going to outshine him?! The only thing he’d end up doing would be receiving for Ushijima. Defeated, Goshiki lowered his head.

“Okay.”

“You seem… strangely distracted.”

Goshiki was thrown off with the sudden continuation of conversation. Although Ushijima had never been _rude_ , the older boy had never had any real interest in conversation that didn’t pertain to the sport. Goshiki swallowed thickly, feeling cornered under Ushijima’s sharp glare.

“Sorry. I’m fine.”

What was even more strange, Goshiki thought, was that Ushijima even noticed. He didn’t even think the older boy noticed anything besides volleyball. Ushijima’s eye twitched slightly but he shrugged, accepting the response and walking off to a court. Goshiki breathed in deeply. Well, if today was a loss, then so be it. There had to be losses if there were going to be wins, right? He’d figure out how to impress you tomorrow. Goshiki turned to follow Ushijima before his eyes caught on the white bands encircling Ushijima’s wrist. Was it still injured, even now? He glanced to where the trainers sat. You were reading something—not looking at him, of course—but Choi was chewing on a nail and staring intently at Ushijima. 

Goshiki caught up to Ushijima quickly and decided that he might as well ask. “Is your hand okay?” he posed hesitantly.

Ushijima glared at him so intensely that Goshiki’s heart nearly stopped.

“Fine,” the captain spat. He took a deep breath that straightened his back, and Goshiki realized just how much taller and bigger Ushijima was. His scowl darkened. “Just focus on yourself.”

“Ah, blew it, didn’t you?” The snarky tone came from none other than Shirabu Kenjirou, who had been watching a few feet away. Goshiki frowned as Ushijima turned away and talked inaudibly with Tendou, who was on the other side of the net for the first round. 

“If he’s hurt, that spells out trouble, doesn’t it?” Goshiki asked. Shirabu shrugged.

“Ushijima-san will be fine. He’s always fine.” Shirabu cocked his head and Goshiki blinked questioningly, sensing that the other boy had something else to say.

“Yes?” he prompted, after Shirabu said nothing.

“I hear… you’re trying to confess to the junior trainer.”

“What—when—where—shh!” Goshiki tripped over his own words and waved both hands at Shirabu to shut him up. “I mean… gah, _yes_ , but... it has to be the right timing!”

Shirabu’s thin eyebrow arched and he smiled coldly. “We’re competitors, then.”

_Competitors…?_

“We’re on the same team,” Goshiki pointed out, his eyebrows furrowing. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying… wouldn’t she be more inclined to the person who sits next to her every day, rather than somebody who pulls a shooting star into the net?” Shirabu let out a rare laugh and moved forwards to take his place as setter. Goshiki was left alone in the back of the court, unaware that you were finally looking at him, concern deepening the frown on your face.


	5. MOREL [5/10]

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhhhhh!”

“For the last time Goshiki, would you shut the _hell_ up?!”

Kuromine, his roommate, threw a book across the room. Goshiki deflected it with the pillow he’d been screaming into, letting it clatter to the floor, where his heart lay.

“I don’t get it… out of all people, why did Shirabu-senpai have to like _her_ , too…?”

“Yeah. I mean, he’s way smarter than you. No way she’d choose a dumbass over somebody who got in through the entrance exam.”

“Kuromine Yuta, you’re supposed to be on my damn side!” Goshiki picked the book up off the floor and threw it back across the room. His so-called friend caught it deftly and put it back on his desk, spinning in his chair. Kuromine looked pointedly at Goshiki.

“Well, if you never commit to your promise, I get guaranteed hot showers for two weeks.”

Goshiki sat up. “If you keep making me feel like crap, I’m going to keep screaming.”

“Aha, o-okay, just wait.” Kuromine scowled and ran a hand through his dark, coarse hair. “Why am I dragged into your sad love life? This happened back in first grade too. You never told her how you felt back then either.”

“I’m... I just don’t want to ruin it. If she rejects me, that’ll make things so awkward!”

“As if it isn’t awkward enough already,” Kuromine muttered. Goshiki slammed the pillow back onto his face and flopped back into bed.

“Why couldn’t he have just liked somebody else?” he wailed miserably. Kuromine sighed loudly.

“Then suck it up and confess first. I mean, if she says no to both of you, neither of you win because you both lost. But if you go first, she’s less likely to reject you, right?”

Goshiki lowered the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, chewing on a lip. He looked at Kuromine.

“You’re awful at giving relationship advice.”

Kuromine raised both hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m a _womanizer_ , not a dating type of guy.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe you should just go visit her during lunch or something.”

“What excuse do I have to talk to her?” Goshiki asked dubiously. “Shirabu-san is in the same class as her. He can talk to her about anything, really. What do I have?”

“Ask her to help you with homework.”

“And remind her how dumb I am and how smart Shirabu-san is? No thanks.” He scoffed.

“Pretend to be injured or something.”

“Then I’m lying to her. I don’t want to do that…” Choi’s chilling warning flashed back into his mind and he hugged the pillow to his chest tightly. 

“It’s either that, or you let the other guy win.” Kuromine threw a stress ball in the air and caught it in his hand with a neat _clap_. “You never could say no to a challenge, right?”

Goshiki inhaled deeply, held the breath until he felt like his lungs would pop, and sat up quickly. He pointed at Kuromine.

“Okay. I’m going to talk to her at lunch tomorrow!”

“Cool. Stop screaming, then.”

\---

He could hardly sleep a wink after his decision. Morning came and he was already sprinting to class, eager to get the first half of the day over with so that he could go talk to you. Images of Shirabu chatting you up with the neat smile on his face pissed him off. Goshiki would win. He was a miracle maker—he’d make it work! He could hardly concentrate on the course material either, already trying to run through what he’d say. Something like a sprained finger would do, right? And how was he going to approach you? It wasn’t like he could march up, brandishing his finger yelling “fix this! Also, I really like you!” 

Maybe his habit of getting distracted so easily was why he wasn’t doing so hot in his courses, but he could barely sit still, too antsy with the possibilities of your replies. There were too many possibilities and only a slim fraction of them turned out good. When the bell rang, somebody called out to him.

“Tsutomu, you want to eat lunch together in the cafeteria?”

“Sorry, not today!” he yelped, already a foot outside the classroom. He had to run halfway across campus to get into the second year’s ward, and even then, he had to hope you hadn’t left your class yet. All he knew was that you were in 2-4. He crossed his fingers as he ran, ignoring the weird looks he got as he used his training to the fullest. Bouncing up the stairs two at a time, he rounded a corner to see—

You!

With Shirabu!

_Yikes!_

Immediately he ducked out of the way, trying not to stand too close to any particular group of people but also trying to blend in. You walked past, flicking your hair out with a hand as you talked with Shirabu. He bit his tongue, deciding whether or not he should follow. Curiosity and Jealousy were romantic partners-in-crime and won out against good consciousness easily. Goshiki ducked behind two guys who were going the same way and strained to listen.

“…like anybody?”

“Me? Aha, wow… um, that’s a forwards question Shirabu-kun…”

“I’m just saying. You don’t seem the type that people would let get away from them.”

 _This guy pulled a move before I could!_ Goshiki nearly yelled out, only barely containing his annoyance with an indignant sniffle. Still, the question was pertinent and he listened intently, trying not to be noticed by anybody else as he tagged behind slowly.

“I guess I do like somebody.”

“Who?”

“Well, I can’t tell you, can I?” You playfully punched Shirabu on the shoulder, and he dodged it easily with a laugh. Seeing Shirabu without a scowl was weird enough, but the sight of how friendly you were with him practically ground Goshiki’s heart into the ground.

“One detail then. Come on, I’ve got to know.”

“Fine… he’s on the volleyball team as a regular. That’s all you need to know! So stop asking me!”

Goshiki stopped in his steps as you continued forwards with Shirabu.

\---

_“If you don’t stop crying, Tsutomu, I’m literally going to wring your neck out!”_


	6. ENOKI [6/10]

Goshiki wanted to be able to bounce back from it. Kuromine reminded him that you still hadn’t said _outright_ that you liked Shirabu, but who else could it be? A regular on the team—well, he doubted you were talking about Tendou or Ushijima, and there was just no way it could be _him_ of all people. Why would you like somebody younger and dumber than you when Shirabu was in the same homeroom as you? So he moped around, to the point where even _Kuromine_ got worried for him.

“Dude. You’ve been skipping practices for like, three days straight. The coach is _livid_. He’s taking it out on everybody. We had to do ten laps of diving receives, man! Come on!”

“Even more reason why I shouldn’t go,” Goshiki groaned, rolling over in his bed. “Leave me alone already.”

“[Name]’s been worried, too. She even asked me if you were okay.”

“I can’t go to practice,” Goshiki said emotionlessly, not even able to react to your concern for him. “If I do, I’ll see Shirabu-san and [Name]-chan and I’ll probably just end up jumping into the net again. Or maybe I’ll jump into oncoming traffic. Why not?”

“He really _is_ in a sorry state,” Guen An, a classmate and friend of theirs, whistled lowly. “Is this what it’s like to be heartbroken? Lame.”

“Tsu-chan, you never even tried yet. Don’t you think it’s worth a shot?”

“You were never this encouraging before,” Goshiki muttered, still facing the wall. Kuromine sighed irritably.

“Yeah, well, that was before you became a depressed turd.”

“Nah, don’t worry. I’ve got this.” The sound of Guen’s phone dialing something was muffled and Goshiki ignored it, right up until he heard your tinny voice through the speaker.

“Ah, Guen-kun? Is something wrong?”

“Yes, actually. Goshiki’s been really sick and he won’t go to the nurse.”

“What are you—?!” Goshiki started, shutting himself up quickly in case you could hear him. He bolted upright in bed and glared in anguish at Guen, who adjusted his blue glasses smugly. 

“He won’t?” you replied, sounding shocked. “Is that why he hasn’t been coming to practice? I was so worried…”

Your voice softened and Goshiki’s heart started to pound. He shot a pleading look to Kuromine, who ignored him, leaning forwards on his chair to Guen’s phone.

“[Name]-chan, this is Kuromine. Do you mind coming over to our room to check up on him? I’m like, hopeless when it comes to this. Us guys, you know. Maybe he needs a woman’s touch.”

“Kuromine-kun, hi! Well, all right. Is it okay if I bring over some soup? What room are you in?”

“The east residence, room 211. Thanks so much, [Name]-chan. You’ll be a life-saver!”

“Of course. Anything for Goshiki-kun. I’ll be there in an hour or so.”

You hung up and Guen looked up with a sly grin, tucking his own phone back into his bag.

“See? She’s bringing you soup!”

“Soup, or _death_?!” Goshiki screeched.

\---

Like the cowards they were, Kuromine and Guen retreated into Guen’s dorm, laughing the whole way there. Goshiki paced the room frantically. What did he say when you came over? What did he do? Should he confess to you now? No, that made no sense at all. He couldn’t just spring it onto you like that when he’d already been trapped in a lie about being sick! The only ‘sick’ he was, was heartsick, and that didn’t really qualify as a real illness. 

The knock in his door about made his heart combust into a thousand and one burning crashing pieces. He debated leaving you standing out there but hated the thought of worrying you further. He drew in a deep breath to steady himself and with shaky hands, opened the door as slowly as he could.

“[Name]-san,” he managed, lowering his gaze as soon as he saw you. You had a thermos wrapped up in cloth tucked in your arms and you inhaled sharply when you saw him.

“Oh, you’re worse than I thought…”

 _Do I look that bad?_ Goshiki wondered touchily, your words inadvertently stinging him. You entered as he stepped aside and looked around the room.

“I’m sorry you’ve been sick. I didn’t know. If you had told me, I would’ve come over sooner.” You sat down in Kuromine’s chair and he sat in his, feeling more awkward than ever before. He couldn’t even meet your gaze, aware that his hair was a bird’s nest from lying in bed for three days straight.

“Sorry…”

“No, don’t apologize. It can’t be helped, right? I’m glad you’ve been resting instead of pushing yourself. I thought for sure you’d be the type to go to practice anyways, so I’m happy you made the right choice. Here, I made some chicken soup for you!” Seemingly glad to move the conversation forwards, you untied your package with a lot of unnecessary vigour, sliding the thermos to him. You had given him a spoon too, and he couldn’t help but blush at your thoughtfulness.

“Th-thank you. You really didn’t have to do anything for me.”

“It wasn’t any trouble. I wanted to help… but your fever looks terrible. Have you been drinking enough water?” You suddenly placed the back of your hand against his cheek and he jumped, about spilling the soup all over himself as he scooted back from you. 

“Y-yeah, I—yes! I have! Don’t worry about me, I’m sure I’ll be fine right after eating your soup!” He took a sip of it to show his point, forgetting to blow on it and burning his tongue. Despite the pain, he could tell that it was homemade, and his heart started to beat a little faster than it already was (how that was even possible, he didn’t know). You smiled back, though it looked a bit strained.

“Okay. I’m glad. I hope you get better, G—uh, is it okay if I call you Tsutomu?”

For the second time, he about dropped the thermos of scalding hot soup on himself. He blinked hurriedly but nodded frantically, not trusting himself to speak. A grin blossomed on your face and you nodded.

“Okay, Tsutomu-kun. I hope you get better soon. We miss you at practices.”

“T-then I’ll work my hardest to recover!” he promised. The grin widened and you giggled, concealing your mouth behind a hand. He couldn’t even believe this. Was this really happening? Or was he _actually_ sick and dying and hallucinating Kuromine? He rubbed his eyes and was glad to see that your face hadn’t morphed into Kuromine’s douchey grin. 

“I’ll see you soon, then. Oh, and before I forget…” Suddenly your face started to redden and you stood up abruptly, taking a step towards him. He didn’t have enough time to look up before something soft pressed against the top of his head. 

“My mom always kissed me on the forehead when I was sick, and told me it’d help me get better faster. Get a lot of rest, okay? And don’t be afraid to call me if you want.” You smiled at him shyly, before hiding your face behind a hand again. “S-see you later, Tsutomu-kun.”

“…right, yeah.”

You excused yourself. When you closed the door behind you, he gingerly set the thermos onto his desk before touching the top of his head.

There was no way he could give up. He liked you too much. No, Shirabu wouldn’t get to win over him. If you rejected him, _fine_. But he at least had to try.

A couple rooms away, Guen and Kuromine were busy playing a game of Overwatch on Guen’s PS4 when Goshiki burst through, a small box of simple silver glitter without a lid on it in a hand. It wasn’t hard to get. Kuromine was an advanced art student and had art supplies stuffed into every corner of the shared room. Kuromine also knew what would happen if that much glitter got dumped onto somebody and scrambled to his feet, abandoning the match without a second’s thought.

Guen didn’t even have enough time to swear when he was doused in a festive explosion of sparkles. Goshiki snickered on his way out, your handkerchief tucked close in his pocket.

It was game time and he was first server.


	7. MAITAKE [7/10]

It had taken him a full day to craft. In the end, he had even submitted to enlisting Kuromine’s help, bribing the painter with his dessert rations for 3 days in exchange for a hand-made card. He had thought of a million things to say, but his final draft was a single statement.

_I like you._

His hand shook too much for him to write your name, so he decided to omit it. He also didn’t think he could survive writing his name on it, so he decided to leave it at that. It wasn’t his official declaration yet. He just needed to see how you reacted. If you went straight to Shirabu, well… then, at least he knew without having to admit himself and get rejected. If you didn’t? Then he had hope.

“That’s kind of smart,” Guen had expressed, combing flakes of glitter out of his dark hair absent-mindedly. Goshiki nodded excitedly.

“I’ll leave it on her trainer’s bag at practice tonight. Do you think it’ll work?”

“What’ll you do if she does go to that Shirabu guy?”

“Cry,” Goshiki declared resolutely. Guen sighed, dropping his hands and sliding his glasses back up his nose.

“You’re hopeless, man. It’s just a girl, you know that?”

“She’s not just any girl!” he replied hotly. He shook his head haughtily. “You wouldn’t even understand anyways.”

“Oh? Like you wouldn’t understand having glitter on _everything you freakin’ own_ —”

That afternoon, he could hardly contain himself. He went into the gym early, peering around. The trainers had all left to the storage room to restock, as usual, their duffel bags left behind on the benches. He sprinted over, before realizing something very important.

Which… was yours?

He had been hoping they would be labelled or tagged, but the only means of identification were numbers made with athletic tape on the sides. He had no idea whether you were bag 1 or bag 13! But he had no time to think about it. With a stifled groan, he dropped it onto the cleanest one in the hopes that it was yours. He managed to make it back out of the gym just as the first pair of trainers were walking back into the gym, towels in their hands. 

Practice started soon after. He stared hard at the slip of paper, still left on the bag. The trainers were dispersed around the gym, starting warm-up drills. You were directing a different group in dynamic stretching, and he had no idea if you had even noticed the card. He felt like he was going to faint under the stress of anticipation. You seemed to notice his gaze and smiled at him, giving him a small wave. He looked away hurriedly, not ready to reply to you until the card was found out.

After that, he didn’t even have time to worry about the card. The coach had written a five-paragraph essay of pure anger at him, spitting out so many punishments that Goshiki’s head was spinning. Still, in between jump serves, he glanced over at the card. He just about faceplanted into the floor when he spied your familiar figure. You were walking towards the bags for something—this was it!

You opened a bag on the far left and he nearly fell over. 

_He’d left the card on the wrong bag._

You looked over at the card sitting plainly on the duffel and cocked your head. You picked it up and turned it over, frowning. Looking up, you scanned the room before waving Tendou over. Goshiki was too far to hear what you were saying, but the red-haired upperclassman suddenly laughed loudly. He turned and yelled,

“Hey, Jin-chan!”

The senior trainer perked up and walked over to the other two. You were grinning for some reason, which was confusing him. You passed the card with his handwriting on it to Choi, whose brow furrowed. He caught an expression of realization come across the Korean girl’s face when a familiar foot stomping got his attention.

“Goshiki!” the coach was screaming, tearing his gaze away from the commotion. “I still want to see 90 serves from you!”

“Yessir,” he groaned, his gaze flicking over to you a last time. 

At the end of practice, the coach had him taking down the nets as another punishment for missing so much practice. Tendou noticed him struggling to uproot the last pole and actually lent a hand, helping him wheel the pole into the storage room.

“You heard, Tsutomu? Somebody left a love letter on Jin-Hye’s bag.”

“No, I didn’t,” he said stiffly, still kicking his ass mentally for the mistake. He was eternally grateful that he hadn’t put his name on it. There was no way he could explain _that_.

“I still can’t believe Wakatoshi would finally be so forwards with his feelings. Kid’s been hiding it for ages!”

“W-what about Ushijima-san?” Goshiki asked, snapping out of it. Tendou raised a thin eyebrow.

“You didn’t realize it? Our Ace has been crushing on our cutie senior trainer forever.”

“Really?!” He gaped. Ushijima was like a brick wall when it came to emotions. Even after winning a match, he hardly smiled, substituting a happy expression with a… less intense scowl. His mind was wheeling.

“Looks like it turned out well, though. Jin-Hye was through the roof. Man, makes a guy feel lonely, huh?” Tendou elbowed Goshiki in the ribs before humming a tune to himself, walking out of the storage room with his hands locked behind his head. Goshiki sighed through his nose. Although it wasn’t _exactly_ the result he was looking for, at least Kuromine’s card and Goshiki’s dessert rations had gone to good use.

Outside the storage room, Shirabu was cracking his knuckles thoughtfully, watching you as you were cleaning up your trainer supplies. Your voice carried through the emptied, echo-prone room easily, unbeknownst to Goshiki.

“I wish I got a card like that from _my_ crush, Jin-chan. You’re lucky…”

“Hm,” Shirabu muttered.


	8. PORCINI [8/10]

“Goshiki.”

He jumped at the sound of his voice in the flat tone, turning to face Shirabu. He was still doing make-up practice for all the days he had missed earlier, so the gym was still empty, save for the presence of himself and Shirabu. He swallowed thickly and stood as straight as he could, knowing he was taller, and he really needed that flimsy reassurance to face his senior’s glare.

“Shirabu-san… do you need something?” he asked timidly.

“You wrote that letter, right? The one Choi-san got?”

“Um… no,” Goshiki lied, badly. Shirabu snorted.

“Good one. You don’t even know which bag belongs to [Name]-chan? Either way, you failed.”

Goshiki scowled, feeling heat rise up his neck. “W-Whatever! At least I got Ushijima-san and Choi-san together, didn’t I?”

“By a _fluke_ ,” Shirabu pointed out. He hesitated before sighing irritably. “Okay, fine, I’ll give you credit for that. But only for that. That’s not what I’m here to tell you.”

“What is it, then?” Goshiki asked nervously, pretty sure that he didn’t want to hear. Shirabu whipped a heavy piece of cardstock out, slapping it against the palm of his other hand. Goshiki’s heart sunk into his feet coldly when he realized what it was.

“Unlike you, I actually know which bag belongs to [Name]. And that’s not all. I’m not cowardly enough to just leave it there. I’ll have an answer from her soon enough.” He cocked his head to the side, smiling smugly. “Sorry Tsu-chan.”

He was very not-sorry, and left Goshiki staring as he walked off. 

In the doorway of the gym, Choi Jin-Hye stood, chewing thoughtfully on a thumbnail. You walked up, struggling to balance water bottles and towels in your arms.

“[Name]-chan!” she blurted out, stopping you from entering the gym. She took your arm and walked you away from the gym, a light in her eyes. “I need to tell you something…”


	9. OYSTER [9/10]

He didn’t even want to show up to practice. It was too hard to think about—you and Shirabu. What if you accepted his confession? What if the two of you started dating? God, could he even deal with seeing that?! However, he wasn’t keen on doing even _more_ make-up practice, the coach’s shrill screaming still in his ears. With a sombre mood, Goshiki decided that he could take it out on jump-serve or attack drills. Kuromine sighed at his side as Goshiki’s head bounced in time with sullen plodding footsteps.

“You’re a real tragedy, man. Real damn tragedy. Look, I’ll let you shower first because I feel bad.”

“Don’t care,” he mumbled lifelessly. “Who cares? _I_ don’t…”

“Real freakin’ tragic.”

“Goshiki.”

Goshiki stopped in his footsteps, looking down at the white and grey sports shoes. Only one person on the team wore white and grey shoes.

“Shirabu-san,” he muttered spitefully, not even bothering to look up. He sighed, unable to fake a polite tone at this point. “What do you want?”

“To talk.”

Goshiki’s brow twitched. Why didn’t he sound more douchebaggy? He looked up and saw that Shirabu looked even more annoyed than usual, his scowl set deep. Dark lines lined the older boy’s undereyes. He started walking off and Goshiki glanced to Kuromine, who shrugged.

“I’ll go on without you,” he said. Kuromine clapped Goshiki on the shoulder in what was supposed to be supportive, but merely stung. Goshiki looked back hesitantly to Shirabu, who was disappearing into a corner behind the change rooms. 

“If I come back all beat up, you know what happened,” Goshiki muttered under his breath. He trudged after Shirabu, dread turning his stomach like the washer cycle set on high.

When he got there, Shirabu was leaning against the wall, examining his taped fingers with muted disinterest. His brown eyes flicked up to Goshiki’s before looking back down to his hands.

“She rejected me, y’know?”

“Wh… what?”

The words didn’t register in his head and he stared, unable to comprehend what his senior had just said. Shirabu grumbled, looking up at him an enunciating clearly in a snarky tone that was his everyday manner of speaking.

“She. Rejected. Me. Do I have to spell it out? Want me to get on my knees and apologize to you or something? God.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.” Goshiki didn’t know what else to say and he doubly didn’t know how to feel. He should’ve been jumping with joy, but instead, he felt a pang of sympathy. If Shirabu had liked you as much as he did, it’d hurt. Shirabu inhaled deeply before looking up at him.

“Yeah. Well. Anyways, I guess I _am_ a bit sorry for how I treated you.” He scratched his head awkwardly, obviously uncomfortable with the apology.

“It’s okay, really,” Goshiki replied quickly. It was already strange enough to see an upperclassman apologize to him like this, much less _Shirabu Kenjirou_ of all people. He didn’t feel like he needed the apology. Shirabu shrugged before extending a steady hand.

“Truce, then?”

Goshiki looked at it before giving a small smile. He took it, the lifting edges of Shirabu’s tape rough against his hand as he shook the older boy’s hand firmly. It felt like those arbitrary handshakes at the end of matches. Those didn’t matter to him—of course Shiratorizawa had won, whom could they lose to? But holding Shirabu’s hand had more weight and he nodded once. 

“Truce.”

“Hey. Good luck,” Shirabu added thoughtfully, giving him a wry smile. “Just know that if you screw up and upset her, I’ll be back for you.” He let go and walked off, leaving Goshiki looking down at his own hands.

He clenched it into a fist and looked up. Today… was the day.


	10. PORTOBELLO [10/10]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Portobello mushrooms are matured button mushrooms, which is some nice symbolism if you pay attention to the chapter names. Thanks for reading!

He thought that he’d be a second away from fainting or at the very least, nervous, but Goshiki didn’t feel anxious at all. In fact, he felt as if he were about to walk to the back-line for a serve after scoring several already. There was definitely the pinch of the ‘what-if’ in the back of his head, but he was calm. He walked past Shirabu, who didn’t react, but Kuromine was giving him twin thumbs-ups. 

You were talking with Choi Jin-Hye, who noticed him coming before you did. To his surprise she winked at him and excused herself with a flourish, leaving you alone on the bench. You looked a little more sombre than usual, and he guessed that it was because you had just rejected Shirabu the other day. He could only cross his fingers that he wouldn’t be joining Shirabu in the ‘had-the-really-cute-junior-trainer-break-my-heart’ club.

“[Name]-san?” he asked, getting your attention. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. For once, he didn’t feel the urge to look away.

“O-oh,” you said, getting to your feet to close the height gap somewhat. “What’s wrong, Tsutomu-kun? Do you need something?”

“Um, yeah, actually. Can I talk to you?”

“Of course. What’s up?”

Deep breath. First foot forwards, two steps. Arms back for maximum height. Power to his toes, align his body to the ball…

Hit the ball.

“I… I like you. More than a friend.” He swallowed hard, clenching his fists as if that might help steel his resolve. He couldn’t help but look at your knees as he spoke frantically, afraid that he might lose concentration if he met your eyes. “I have for a while but I was never able to admit it… but that’s how I feel. I like you, [Name]-san. You make me feel… all sorts of things, but most of all, I like you.”

“You… do?” Your voice was quiet and wondrous, more like you were seeing a shooting star rather than hearing his heartfelt confession. He wasn’t discouraged and barrelled forwards. 

“Yeah. Yes! Of course I do! You’re kind and helpful and beautiful and smart and… well, um, you just make my heart race and I just can’t stop thinking about you. In a not creepy way. Anyways, um, I’m sorry if this is hard for you to hear, since I’m younger than you and all, but… that’s how I feel.” He bowed his head to you, staring right down at his shoes, his breath held as he waited for a response. He could feel his face reddening with embarrassment but resisted the urge to sprint away.

“Oh,” was all you said. He looked up, concerned, and realized you had taken both hands and put them over your face.

“[Name]-san?” he asked, bewildered. You waved him off with one hand and he saw just how coloured your face was underneath.

“I-I didn’t… wow, um… okay. Yeah! Um…” 

He suddenly realized with a jolt what you had probably felt like every time you had talked to _him_ before, and he couldn’t help grinning down at you. You were too adorable, flustered like this. 

“[Name]-san?” he prompted gently. Your shoulders rose as you took a deep breath and suddenly, you looked up explosively. He was much taller than you so you still had to crane your neck up to look at him, the red flush across your face accentuating the colour of your eyes. 

“I like you too!”

“…what?”

Out of all the answers he had been expecting: ‘sorry, I don’t return your feelings’, ‘I understand’, or ‘what the hell, you freak!’, he had definitely not expected ‘I like you too’. 

“I… I thought you’d find it weird for an older girl to like you, so I never said anything. But you’re so inspiring, and…!” You started fanning yourself, looking back down at the ground and talking to his feet. “I’m sorry, this is so awkward for me... I just didn’t know how to express myself without making things weird—”

“You aren’t!” he blurted out hastily. “It’s not weird at all! I-I promise, even though I’m your underclassman, I’ll do everything I can to make you happy!”

“Ah, no, don’t say that! I’m going to start crying or something dumb!” You covered your face again and Goshiki couldn’t help but gently take one of your wrists, pulling your hand away. You peeked up at him and he knew he was blushing too, the heat pounding across his face. But he wasn’t nervous. Instead, he was pressing his lips together in concentration, like he might during an approach for a spike.

“I’m going to do everything I can to make you happy,” he repeated resolutely. You squeaked in the most adorable way, but nodded, your hand slowly slipping through his grip to fit in his. Your smaller fingers clutched his.

“Okay,” you agreed quietly. You smiled shyly, your eyelashes fluttering. “I’m going to do everything I can… so that you can be the next ace. I want to be here when you are… and when I leave, I’ll wait for you.”

“ _Goddammit_!” 

Tendou’s familiar shriek from behind him made Goshiki jump and startled you so much you screamed, covering your mouth with the hand not in his. Goshiki whirled around as Tendou clutched both sides of his face. 

“Wh-what is it, Tendou-san?!” he asked, but Tendou was already shouting accusatorily.

“You happy couples make me sick. _Sick!_ First Wakatoshi, then you—what’s next?” He stormed away, hands in the air as if to ask God why there were all these happy people to torture him.

Still, despite Tendou’s bitterness, your hand was still in his. And that was just the beginning. If this were a spike, it’d be a service ace. He could feel it now. The ball hitting the floor of the other side of the net, the rising wave of the cheer… 

What did he need to make a wholesome mushroom stew? Well that was easy, he just needed love, and you.

**Author's Note:**

> Elsewhere: https://goo.gl/MnQZgN


End file.
